


Theodore Decker is Not as Okay as He Wants You to Believe

by Unused_dishes



Category: The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Drug Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Theo goes to therapy!, Therapy, theo is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unused_dishes/pseuds/Unused_dishes
Summary: “Why did you decide to seek out therapy?”It was a simple question, really, but complicated and dark and uncomfortable nonetheless. Theo looked to the side, staring out the small window that lit the office.“A friend recommended I try it again,”--Theo goes to therapy and actually talks about his feelings
Relationships: Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Theodore Decker is Not as Okay as He Wants You to Believe

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea stuck in my head since I finished the Goldfinch, and I figured I might as well write it.

Theo really would have rather been somewhere else. Anywhere would have been better than the small, monotone office he was sitting in. Hal, the therapist Platt had recommended, was sitting across the desk from him, smiling amiably and making small talk. Already, Theo was exhausted.

“Alright, it looks like we’re all set up now. Let's get right to it,” Hal said. “Why did you decide to seek out therapy?”

It was a simple question, really, but complicated and dark and uncomfortable nonetheless. Theo looked to the side, staring out the small window that lit the office.

“A friend recommended I try it again,”

“Again? So I take it you’ve been in therapy before,” Another loaded sentence. Hal wanted him to expand on his answer. 

“Yeah. When I was a kid,” 

He nodded, and tapped on the desk lightly with a short nail. “Did it help you, as a child?”

“No. I hated it,” He didn’t want to talk about it.

“I’m glad you decided to try again,” A long pause, during which Hal typed something onto his computer. “Why don’t we talk about what you want to achieve by coming here”

“Well. I guess, uh, I’m just interested in, uh, doing better. I’ve been-” he took a deep breath. “Trying to quit drinking, and… other things, and I guess everyone wanted me to, you know, get some help with that?”

“That's very brave,” Hal said, solemnly. “And I’m happy you decided to get some guidance on this. It’s a difficult thing to do alone,”

Theo made an ambiguous gesture, and focused on the pattern in the wood desk.

“Why don’t we start with some basic facts. You only have to tell me what you want to tell me, don’t be afraid to pass a question. How old are you?”

That was easy enough. “Twenty four,”

“What do you do for work?”

“I sell antiques. I’ve worked there since I was seventeen,”

“Do you like your job?”

“I do. Although I don’t think I’m very good at it,”

“Oh? Why do you say that?”

“Well…” there were too many reasons. “You know, I don’t want to talk about that right now,”

“Alright, we’ll move on. Are you close with your family?”

“No,”

“Ok, do you have many close friends?”

A pause. “I don’t know,”

“You said a friend recommended you try therapy, so you must have at least one,”

“I guess, and well, it was more than one friend who suggested it,”

“That's good, you have people out there who care about you. When did you start drinking?”

He looked at the wall. Pale yellow, crowded by dusty shelves with books with titles like Teens and Depression, and How to Talk About Grief, and Addiction and Mental Illness. 

“I think I was about thirteen,”

“You said you were in therapy around that time. Was that because you were drinking? Or was there another event that triggered both?”

“I didn’t really start, or at least, not really start drinking until after, uh, after I stopped going,” He paused, and looked from the wall to the window. “I moved to Las Vegas, and I lived with my dad, and I just. Didn’t have any rules or anything. He didn’t care if I was drunk, and really he wasn’t around enough to notice,”

“Where did you live before you moved there?”

“I lived here, in New York,”

“And why did you move?”

“My mother. She died,”

Hal frowned and leaned forward a little in his chair. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Theo. What happened?”  
“You probably remember hearing about it. We were in the museum when… Well, like I said you probably remember when there was a terrorist attack, and they put bombs in there, and, well,” He looked to the desk. The room was too quiet, suddenly. He could hear himself breathing above any other sound.

“And you were with her, there?”

“I was in the gift shop. She was in the gallery,”

The room was too small. The air was too warm, and he needed to leave.

“Theo, I’m incredibly sorry to hear that that happened to you,”

Dry swallow around the lump in his throat. “Well, it was over a decade ago,”

“Even so, it’s the kind of event that sticks with a person,” He glanced at his computer, and looked back with a slightly surprised face. “It appears we’ve run out of time, Theo. This was a really good first session. I’ll see you the same time, next week,”

“Yeah, uh, thanks,” He gave a thin smile, stood, and left the room as fast as possible.


End file.
